


Xavier's School for Hero Academia

by silverwolf_fox



Category: X-Men Evolution, 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia
Genre: Discrimination, F/M, Foreign Exchange Student, Humor, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Nightcrawler - Freeform, Pining, Some Romance, Xavier Institute, bakushima, tododeku - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-23
Updated: 2018-08-06
Packaged: 2019-04-26 17:59:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14407464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silverwolf_fox/pseuds/silverwolf_fox
Summary: A foreign exchange program has been implemented between Yuuei High of Japan and Xavier's Institute in New York, USA. It is hoped that this program could narrow the divide between two cultures with vastly differing opinions on evolutionary powers. Persecuted from birth for his demonic appearance, Kurt Wagner was chosen to switch schools for a semester with Bakugo Katsuki, a hero-in-training who has always been praised for his incredible quirk.Kurt will have to learn how to accept himself in a place where differences are celebrated, while Bakugo is forced to face his own demons as he's condemned for the very thing that's always made him great.





	1. Preface

**Author's Note:**

> I can't guarantee a proper updating schedule, but I am almost done with chapter 3 already so there's that.  
> This chapter is just an intro, so it's extra short.

Tense silence thickened the air.

When Bakugo was sent to the principal’s office, this was the farthest thing from what he expected. The blonde teen stood across the desk from the quirked rodent while Aizawa and All Might stood off to the side, observing. Classes had just ended when the two teachers escorted him to see Nedzu for something important.

Bakugo’s leg was fidgeting as he thought. They were offering him the opportunity to spend the next semester studying at a school in America, but he didn’t understand why it was a good idea, since it’d be a semester that he wasn’t at Yuuei.

“Why?” he asked, a natural frown pulling down the corners of his mouth.

“We believe it would be an excellent learning experience for you,” explained Nedzu. For such an intelligent creature, the principal was adept at answering while not giving any real information. Bakugo’s frown deepened. Stepping forward, an emaciated All Might coughed into his fist to clear the itch in his throat.

“You should consider it, Bakugo, my boy. I spent a semester abroad when I was about your age, and it was an enriching experience.”

They waited in anticipation as the explosive teen mentally weighed the pros and cons. While Yuuei was known to be the best hero school, he couldn’t disregard a unique proposal like this offhand. Bakugo mindlessly tapped his heel.

“Where is it?” Nedzu’s ear twitched, confident and pleased that they had Bakugo’s interest.

“New York. A city called Bayville.”

* * *

 

_ ‘Kurt, may I see you in my office, please?’ _

When the telepathic message floated through his head, the blue mutant froze, unfortunately giving Bobby the opening he needed to steal the basketball and score. He groaned, and, hidden by the image inducer, his tail lashed about in frustration.

_ “Be right there, Professor,” _ he thought, waving goodbye to the guys who resumed their game as he walked back inside. Since it was saturday, the various residents of the manor were scattered around the property since going into town wasn’t much fun or very safe with all the anti-mutant protests going on. Kurt saw Scott and Jean talking over the newspaper in the kitchen, and Jamie was playing video games with Ray in the living room.

Kurt knocked on the main office’s door and called out, “Professor?”

_ ‘Come in, Kurt.’ _ When he pushed open the door and looked inside, he saw Ororo standing next to Xavier at his desk. “Have a seat.” Kurt gave an affirming nod then walked over to sit in one of the chairs.

“What do you need, Professor?” he asked, anxiously tapping his fingers against his knees.

“I was contacted by the principal of a school abroad that specializes in training the use of mutations, and he’s interested in a student exchange for next semester.”

“If you think you’d be interested,” Ororo interjected, “you can have time to think it over.”

Honestly, it sounded like a fantastic idea. All of the anti-mutant protesters made Kurt anxious, and they didn’t even know about his true appearance. Of course, there was no guarantee that the place he’d be going to would be any better.

“Where is it?”

“Musutafu, Japan.”


	2. Arrival to a Strange New Place

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our favorite fellas arrive in their new countries only to learn that things are a little different than they are back home.

 

By the time the plane touched down, Bakugo was ready to blast someone. It really should be a crime to bring crying infants onto a crowded, inescapable metal prison. There had been two of them: one further up and the other was situated on its mother’s lap across the aisle from him.

He flipped open the plastic window covering and winced against the bright sunlight.

When he found out the flight from Tokyo to New York was bordering on thirteen hours, he had planned to take a couple sleeping pills so that he could avoid dealing with jet lag only to realize too late that he had left them in one of his checked bags. Bakugo fought the yawn threatening to spread his maw and unbuckled the seatbelt, knowing full well he’d still be trapped next to the elderly American woman for another several minutes.

Eventually enough people filed out so that Bakugo could get up and leave. He passed by the crowd of people waiting to get on the next flight and started looking up at the directional signs. First thing’s first, he needed to get to baggage claim and then to customs. Based on the pictures and arrows, Bakugo turned left and went straight until he hit the baggage carousel. 

The large, heavy black suitcase was the first to come around followed soon after by his gym bag that was black with a thick orange X on it, reminiscent of his hero costume. Reaching into one of the deep pockets of his saggy cargo pants, Bakugo pulled out the pocket sized Japanese-English translation dictionary that Present Mic had given him before he left Japan. Despite doing well in English class, it wasn’t enough for what he’d need during this exchange.

After comparing the words from the nearby signs to the dictionary, Bakugo moved on. It was relatively easy to find customs and, barring the irritating language barrier, easy to pass through. According to the instructions he was given, he was supposed to catch a train from somewhere in the airport that would take him closer to Bayville and from there, one of the teachers would pick him up.

Walking through the airport, Bakugo started to notice something. No one around him had a mutation quirk. Not that that actually meant anything, but it was strange and Bakugo didn’t believe in coincidences. His suspicions only grew as he found the subway and bought the ticket. He couldn’t see any quirk use. Even though citizens weren’t technically allowed to use their quirk in public, it rarely stopped them completely.

The strangest thing happened a few stops into the trip. Bakugo chose his own seat and covered the one next to him with his luggage so that nobody would get any ideas about sitting there. Then some punk who couldn’t read the huge “fuck off” written across the blonde’s forehead decided to start something.

Frankly, Bakugo had no idea what the other guy was talking about, since he spoke too fast and used words that Bakugo hadn’t learned yet, and his lack of response only served to agitate his aggressor. The moment a hand touched Bakugo’s arm, he was done playing nice.

He kept it simple, only igniting small sparks in his right palm to get his point across, but was caught off guard by the punk’s reaction. Normally, people catch a glimpse of his explosions and were smart enough to back off, but this guy’s face turned an angry shade of red while he started yelling.

If it hadn’t been for the promise he’d made to Nedzu to behave himself, at least until he got to the new school, he’d roast this loser, but anger was simmering beneath his skin and heating up to a boil. It was only after he noticed the other people in the subway car that he realized something was very wrong.

Minor quirk use in public was an inevitability and really didn’t draw much attention, but these people were staring at him with something akin to abject horror. It was like they’d never seen a quirk before. Several of them stood, preparing to crowd him, but the train began to slow. A quick mental count of the stops let Bakugo know he needed to get off at the next station.

Wearing his nastiest sneer to warn off anyone from attempting a fight, he grabbed his luggage and shoved his way through the crowd. A few extra sparks kept the original instigator from grabbing at his shoulder or from trying to follow him out.

His red eyes scanned the platform, looking for the teacher that’s supposed to be picking him up. According to what he looked up on the internet, Professor Xavier was bald and in a wheelchair. Should be easy enough to locate.

_ ‘Bakugo Katsuki.’ _ The blonde was startled when he heard a man’s voice in his head. Finally his gaze landed on two people moving in his direction. One was Professor Xavier and the other was a tall, dark skinned woman with white hair.

“Good morning, Bakugo. My name is Ororo, this is Professor Xavier, and we’d like to welcome you to our city.” The teen inclined his head in acknowledgement, his expression smoothing out to its neutral resting bitch face.

“I’ve been informed that you have a basic understanding of English,” the professor confirmed.

“Yes.” Good enough to get by in normal day conversation, anyway. For anything else, he’ll have to use his dictionary or, the bigger likelihood, he’ll silently glare and pretend that he doesn’t care enough to respond.

“Excellent. Before we go, do you have any questions about this exchange?”

Bakugo’s immediate response was to say no before he remembered those people’s reactions.

“I used my quirk, and the people acted like they had never seen a quirk before. Why?” Both adults shared a look before Ororo answered.

“I’m afraid that mutations aren’t as accepted here as they are in Japan.” She seemed apologetic, probably feeling bad for him since he didn’t know the situation in America. His eyes were wide and lips parted.

“What?” Bakugo choked out in disbelief.

* * *

 

It was early afternoon when Kurt walked off the plane in Japan. Thankfully he had managed to sleep enough on the flight to escape the worst of the jet lag. He pressed the button against the black collar flexing against his throat and secured the wireless earpieces, visible despite the active image inducer. Walking over to the woman at the desk, he patiently waited for her attention.

“Excuse me, how do I find baggage claim?” When he spoke, he felt the words vocalize in a mesh of syllables that made little sense to him, but she seemed to understand what he said.

“Go right and just follow the signs. They’ll lead you straight there.” It was a strange to hear the Japanese words followed quickly by their English translation in his ears, but at least Kurt felt confident that the translation device was working.

The translator didn’t do anything to help with reading Japanese, but Kurt was relieved that the signs were also written in English. He was so focused on finding his way that it took him awhile to notice how different this place was in comparison to home, but once he saw it, he couldn’t stop seeing it.

There were people walking around with mutations, and no one was batting an eye. A man with large curling ram horns and lime green hair working on his laptop received no dirty looks. Nobody picked a fight with the teenage girl serving coffee because she had a second pair of arms.

He got so caught up in the obvious mutations that he had to backtrack when he accidentally walked past the path to baggage claim. Once he found the right carrousel, Kurt awkwardly stood amongst the other arrivals to wait for his duffle bag. When it came around, he grabbed it and tore the airline tag off before slinging it over his shoulder.

Cars were lined up outside the door. All Kurt knew was that someone was picking him up but didn’t know who to look for. Glancing around, he finally saw a tall man leaning against a compact car holding a sign with his name on it, though the man himself was nothing like what Kurt expected. Dressed entirely in black leather, his blonde hair swooped up behind him and he wore yellow sunglasses and a strange speaker device around his neck.

The odd man looked up as Kurt approached.

“Wagner?” Holding back a wince at the pronunciation of his name, the teleporter nodded.

“Kurt is fine,” he added, the translator successfully turning his words into Japanese, which seemed to catch the other off guard.

“Call me Present Mic. We didn’t expect you to know Japanese.” If anything, Mic seemed almost disappointed. Kurt gestured to his collar and earbuds.

“This is translating everything for me,” he explained. While they talked, Mic popped the trunk for Kurt’s bag, and they both got into the car.

“Fancy. I teach English at the school, so...if you need someone to speak normally to…” The teacher trailed off, and his lips formed a small pout as if his favorite toy was taken away. It sounded as though he was trying to defend his right to be there, and Kurt got the feeling that Mic had wanted the chance to show off his language fluency.

While he looked through the window and watched the scenery pass by, Kurt thought about those people he had seen.

“Hey, Present Mic,” he started, waiting until he knew he the other’s attention before continuing, “earlier I saw several people with their mutations out in the open, but nobody was bothering them about it.” It wasn’t a question, but the blonde hero understood what the teleporter was confused about.

“Well, you’re really not supposed to go around using your quirk in public, but as long as it isn’t hurting anyone, then officers tend to go easy on you,” Mic explained.

“But no one cared that they were mutants,” Kurt pushed to which Mic raised a brow.

“Mutants? Kind of a harsh way to put it.”

“Why didn’t anyone care?”

“Why would they? They’re just quirks.”

The teen felt like banging his head against the dash for all the circles they were going around.

“So the powers are called quirks?” Hopefully, starting at square one would help him figure out why Japan was already so different than New York.

“Of course.”

“We just call them mutations,” Kurt explained, glad that one confusion was cleared. “Back home, being a mutant, er, having a quirk is considered really bad. Most people hate us because of our powers.”

Present Mic glanced over, moderately surprised. Growing up in a culture where quirked people made up over 80% of the population, it was a strange concept to believe that somewhere people discriminated against them. However, he supposed it wasn’t that different to some attitudes regarding the quirkless.

“Well, you’ve got nothing to worry about here, listener. Having a quirk is completely natural in Japan, and being a hero is only going to make you that much more popular!” Mic only spared him a quick side-along glance to give a reassuring smile before he thankfully turned his attention back to the road. The way people drove here reminded Kurt a lot about the crazy driving back in Germany, and he wouldn’t deny his hand was white knuckling the door handle as if that would prevent them from crashing.

Kurt hesitantly glanced at his reflection in the side mirror, taking in the pale skin that disguised his blue fur.

“Really?” he muttered nervously.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's a little slow to start, but it'll pick up. Do y'all like how these are styled with Bakugo's section and then Kurt's section? Would it be better if I labelled them?


	3. First Impressions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is when we meet some of the other students!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m gonna try adding in Kurt’s accent. Bear with me.  
> I don’t speak Japanese at all, so the translations are done with Google Translate. It’s for story telling, not accuracy, so apologies.  
> Japan is 13 hours ahead, so I switched Kurt’s section ahead of Bakugo’s. Helps me keep track of timezones (which are a kind of a bitch, by the way).

 

Kurt stood agape at the imposing walls that guarded the hero school’s campus. After the drive from the airport, which had gotten a lot more interesting when the teacher next to him cranked up an English music station and started talking about the radio show he hosted every Friday night, Present Mic told him they’d have to go by the main office to him a student pass.

It was made very clear to him that he wouldn’t be allowed inside the school gates without the laminated identification card. Kurt wanted to comment on the crazed level of paranoia, but held his tongue after considering the security measures of the institute back home.

While leading him around campus, Present Mic gave Kurt a basic rundown on how the school was split between four different departments: heroics, support, general education, and business. Kurt tried his best to pay attention, but he kept getting distracted by the onslaught of odd people they passed. The adults must have been teachers, but they were all dressed in unique costumes and some of them didn’t even look human.

One guy literally looked like a giant block of cement, and Kurt couldn’t even deny that he looked back over his shoulder so he could continue staring at the prominent mutation. It was one of the strangest things he’d ever seen, at least until Present Mic took him to meet the principal.

It was a brief introduction to welcome him to Yuuei, but Kurt didn’t hear a word of it. His new school’s principal was a talking mouse the size of a child. He was still reeling from this fact after they’d been dismissed. Hopefully nothing he said would be too important given Kurt didn’t remember any of it. 

“So you’ll be staying in the 2-A dorm building,” Present Mic explained to Kurt as they walked the Yuuei premises. Present Mic informed him that they’d be meeting with his homeroom teacher soon.

Admittedly, Kurt was a little worried about what this teacher would be like. He had wondered if they’d be someone gentle like Storm or tough like Wolverine, but after seeing some of the mutations in this school, he had no idea what to expect. He adjusted the duffel bag on his shoulder and kept admiring all the different mutants he could see.

Within minutes they came to a building with a large “2-A” on the front, and walking out the front door was a man who, in Kurt’s opinion, needed to go to bed and sleep for a week. Present Mic introduced him as Eraserhead, and Kurt briefly wondered if he would be expected to introduce himself with his codename.

“Wagner Kurt?” the dark haired teacher confirmed. Kurt nodded, and Mic huffed at the idea that he would have fetched the wrong teenager which earned him an intense red-eyed stare. “You look different than the picture we received. Is this due to your quirk?”

Figures that this would already be an issue.

“Actually I’m a teleporter,” he explained, displaying the seemingly harmless watch on his left wrist. “I use zis image inducer to disguise myself.” To Eraserhead’s credit, he raised a curious brow and only asked if it would inhibit his training. Kurt said that it wouldn’t, so Eraserhead brusquely dismissed Present Mic and led Kurt to the room he’d be staying in.

As they walked, he was instructed on the basic rules of the dorm, such as the chores list (he was told to ask someone named Iida for details), curfew, and that boys weren’t allowed on the girls’ side of the co-ed dorm after 22:00.

They stopped at the end of the hallway on the fourth floor.

“This will be your room over the course of the semester. If you have any questions, the other students are available to help. You’ll have today and tomorrow to settle in, but I expect you to be ready to work hard by Monday.” There was something about Eraserhead’s direct attitude that reminded Kurt of Wolverine.

Having completed his duties, Eraserhead left him to unpack. Kurt opened the door, tossed his bag onto the bed, and observed his surroundings. It was a pretty basic setup with only the bare necessities, including a desk and chair that stood across from the single bed. A part of him wanted to put it off, but he made himself unpack. Finally alone, Kurt turned off his image inducer and stretched out the cramp that wrapping his tail around his waist all day had given it.

He took a few moments to email the professor from his phone and let the institute know that he’d arrived safely at the hero school, then stood awkwardly in the middle of his room. He had no reason or desire to stay in the small room alone, but where else was there to go?

An answer to his dilemma came in the form of a knock. Kurt quickly reactivated the image inducer to make him look like an average German and snaked his tail around his waist before seeing who could possibly be at his door. It was a well built teen in a polo shirt with dark navy hair and square glasses.

“Um, hello?”

“Greetings, new classmate! My name is Iida Tenya, class president, and I would like to welcome you to our school,” the boy fervently introduced, shaking his hand with the same energy.

“S-sank you,” Kurt replied, caught off guard by his energy. “I’m Kurt Wagner, er, I mean Wagner Kurt.” Remembering to reverse his name was going to take some time getting used to.

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Wagner-san. Some of the other students and I were about to go get dinner, and Aizawa-sensei mentioned you had arrived. Would like to join us?”

“Zat sounds great.” Getting to meet the others so soon was a little nerve wracking, but it had to happen eventually. “Who’s Aizawa-sensei?”

Iida looked surprised. “Our teacher. I had assumed you met him earlier.”

Confused, Kurt inquired, “I met someone called Eraserhead. Is zat him?” The Japanese boy nodded in relief.

“Yes, it is,” he confirmed. Iida stepped back so allow Kurt through, and the two of them walked down the hall. “I don’t blame you for not recognizing him. He isn’t a well known hero even here in Japan.”

During the walk downstairs, Kurt took the time to ask Iida about the different chores and was relieved that it sounded pretty similar to what they did at the Institute, only without the yard work. They worked in rotations and often in pairs, so there would be someone to show him the ropes until he got used to everything.

Kurt could hear the other students the moment they landed on the bottom floor. There was a small group lounging on the couch in the living room, and it was his first cohesive look at some of the kids he’d be spending most of his time with.

The first person he noticed was a girl with short brown hair and pink, chubby cheeks, because she immediately turned around to beam at them as they walked in.

“Iida! You found him?” Everyone else turned to look after her exclamation, and Kurt could feel their burning stares on him.

“Everyone,” Iida firmly said, “this is Wagner, the exchange student. I expect you all to treat him with the respect and dignity as befits hero students of Yuuei.” Light glinted off of his glasses and gave him a sterner look.

The girl hopped over the back of the couch and skipped to stand in front of him. “My name’s Uraraka. It’s nice to meet you!”

“Hi,” Kurt said quietly, rubbing his fingers together as they started to crowd around him. Even after all his time at the Institute, meeting new people still gave him a nervous twitch. There was another girl with long green hair tied in a bow with a stature that reminded him a lot of Toad, a relatively normal looking blonde other than the jagged black mark in his hair and golden eyes, and another boy whose gelled up hair was as red as his eyes.

They were all trying to talk at once, and the translator couldn’t keep up with all the different voices. Kurt felt his throat tighten as claustrophobia set in. In a panic, he teleported in a ‘bamf’ of smoke to the ceiling. It only took a couple deep breaths to calm himself down, though looking down to their surprised faces made him glad that they couldn’t see him blush with the image inducer activated.

“What is that smell? Kaminari!” accused a new voice. The blonde cried out indignantly.

“S-sorry, zat vas me, actually,” Kurt apologized, having heard multiple complaints in the past about the smell of brimstone that lingered with every teleportation. He crawled a few feet away so that he could drop to the floor into a graceful crouch without landing on anyone.

Straightening up, Kurt looked at the newcomer and froze. She was unlike anyone he’d ever seen before. Bright pink skin with small horns curling out of cotton candy pink hair, and she was watching him with curious golden eyes set against black sclera. They all greeted her, but no one gave her a second glance. Kurt always got that second glance, even from his friends at the Institute.

She tilted her head and smiled.

“My name’s Ashido Mina,” the pink mutant said. “What’s yours?”

“Kurt, er...well, Wagner, b-but you can call me Kurt,” he stammered. Embarrassment burned his ears purple beneath the hologram, and he quickly turned to the others. “All of you can just call me Kurt.” 

“Now that Ashido’s here, let’s get some food!” the blonde proclaimed. The teens were excited to go and get some food. As Iida took charge and led them out of the dorm, Kurt asked everyone to repeat their names, pointing to the black tech in his ear, explaining that the translator didn’t pick up everything they had said before.

It was a short walk to the train station where Tsuyu walked him through the process of getting a temporary rail pass for the length of the exchange. Kurt was hesitant, knowing he wouldn’t be able to take the train by himself since he couldn’t read Japanese, but Uraraka assured him that if he ever needed to go somewhere, there would be someone in the class willing to lend a hand.

They only went two stops before disembarking to head to a ramen shop. The heroes-in-training were laughing with each other while Kurt tried to memorize various landmarks to help him get around without a guide. Taking up a table near the back, Kurt was seated at the end with Uraraka on his right, and his gaze kept flitting between the Japanese menu he couldn’t read and Ashido, who picked the seat directly in front of him.

Amber eyes met amber, and Kurt hurriedly turned to Uraraka, uncomfortable that he’d gotten caught staring. He asked for her help ordering but found he couldn’t stop his eyes from wandering to the brightly colored mutant sitting across from him. Slowly and hopefully surreptitiously, he regarded the other four teens at the table. Uraraka and Kaminari appeared normal, as did Kirishima, if he kept his mouth closed around his sharp teeth, and Tsuyu was odd but not overtly strange.

Ashido was ostentatious. It was impossible to see her and not know that she was different. And nobody here seemed to care.

It was unbelievable. But nice.

Lost in his musings, Kurt barely noticed when their orders were taken or when their bowls of steaming ramen arrived. Grabbing the provided utensils, he quickly discovered that three fingers were not sufficient for using chopsticks. He fumbled with them awkwardly until Uraraka started giggling.

“Here, let me show you,” she offered, moving to touch his hand.

Just as her fingers were about to brush against his, Kurt jerked back with a startled gasp. Catching Uraraka’s wide eyes as well as those of the others, he ducked his head and murmured a quiet apology, unable to explain the reason behind his reaction since they couldn’t see the lack of two extra fuzzy fingers with his image inducer on. Determined to avoid their confused stares, Kurt beckoned their waiter over to request Western utensils.

Throughout dinner they asked him all about New York, though Kaminari was vocally disappointed that Kurt had never visited New York City. As they ate, and even afterwards while they made their way back to campus, he found himself watching Ashido.

It wasn’t fair of him, but jealousy heated his blood at how carefree she was. More than once Kurt would have given anything to have the freedom to walk about undisguised like her. He knew that she had noticed his looks, but she didn’t say anything until after the group arrived back at their dorm building.

Kaminari and Kirishima decided to go upstairs to play video games while Uraraka and Tsuyu went to their respective rooms. Kurt planned on following suit until Ashido stopped him.

“Kurt-san, can we talk for a sec?” The worried tone had his fur standing on end, but he turned to face her.

“Yeah, of course, Ashido,” he answered, quickly throwing a “san” onto her name. Her rose lips quirked, as if she was amused but trying not to laugh, before she grew serious again.

“I feel like you’ve been staring at me all night like I kicked your puppy. Did I do something wrong?” It never occurred to him that she’d assumed he was mad at her, and he felt guilty about the misunderstanding.

“No! It’s just...I’ve never seen anyone like you before,” Kurt assured. At her incredulous look, he quickly added, “It’s a good sing! Back home, most people who look different like us live in zee sewers vith zee Morlocks.”

“So you think I should be living in a sewer?”

“Vat? N-no, zat’s not vat I meant!” he stammered, raising his hands in frantic surrender, only for the pink girl to double over in laughter. Ashido brushed an imaginary tear from her eye.

“You almost had me there.” She was left gasping for air. When she was finally able to breathe properly, Ashido tapped the back of her hand against his shoulder in a friendly gesture and said in a joking tone, “People living in a sewer,” before laughing again. She sent him a wink. “You’re pretty funny, Kurt-san.”

Utterly speechless, Kurt stood frozen and watched Ashido leave, apparently finished with their conversation. How different was this country that even the idea of a mutant having to hide away underground was laughable?

* * *

 

When Jean got a telepathic message from the professor to go by his office, she left her room and walked down the hallway. To her surprise, Kitty, Amara, Jubilee, and Rahne were all leaning over the banister at the top of the stairs.

“What are you guys doing?” asked Jean, suspicion coating her tone. It was Kitty who looked over her shoulder to cast a devious smile at the red head.

“The exchange student is here,” she replied with a mischievous voice.

“He’s with the professor in his office,” Rahne giggled. A door slammed, and all the girls turned back around, hoping to catch a glimpse of the new student. From around the corner, Jean saw Professor Xavier wheeling next to a teenage boy with sandy blonde hair.

The Japanese boy was not what Jean had been expecting.

Baggy black clothes and what looked like a permanent frown was etched on his face. His sharp red gaze turned to her as she moved closer.

“Ah, Jean,” Xavier started, “excellent. I’d like you to meet our new student, Katsuki Bakugo.” Putting on a perfect smile, Jean headed down the stairs to stand before him. The professor gestured to the red head and faced the boy. “This is Jean Grey, one of our senior students. She’s available if you have any questions.”

With those final words, Professor Xavier nodded a farewell and returned to his office. Jean could see red eyes glance up at the chittering girls and narrow. When he didn’t speak, the telepath cleared her throat to catch his attention.

“It’s nice to meet you, Katsuki.” Instantly his blazing eyes targeted on her.

“Bakugo.” It was the first thing Jean had heard him say and wasn’t expecting the gruff voice.

“Excuse me?” In her momentary confusion, she accidentally probed into his mind only to hear a jumble of Japanese.

“You don’t know me. You call me Bakugo.” His angry bark took her aback. He spoke with a thick accent that, thankfully, wasn’t too difficult to understand.

“O-oh, I’m sorry.” Despite the pleasant smile she forced, Jean gritted her teeth and resisted the urge to scold him for his rudeness. She was acutely aware of the teenage girls watching from above, and it didn’t take a telepath to know they were holding back laughter at seeing someone talk back to her. “Well as the professor said, if you have any problems, then feel free to ask me or any of the others.”

Halfway through her sentence, Bakugo had taken on a thoughtful expression and pulled out a thick book from his pocket. He casually flipped through it in silence until coming across a folded up piece of notebook paper stuck between the pages.

Pulling it out, he unfolded it, scanned the page, then stuck it back inside the book. It wasn’t until he stuffed the small Japanese-English dictionary into his pocket that he looked at her. Jean waited patiently for him to find the right words to express his thoughts. She’d been very excited after hearing they’d have an exchange student who Professor Xavier explained was in the top of his class. Surely he’d be someone with whom she could discuss their differing cultures and how mutations were viewed in his home country.

“Fuck off,” said Bakugo, and then he brushed past her up the stairs to find his room. While Jean frowned after him, she huffed when the other girls chittered happily.

“He’s so cool,” Jubilee said coyly, wearing an admiring smirk.

Jean resisted the urge to roll her eyes, choosing to leave and get some fresh air. After being specifically pointed out by the professor to act as Bakugo’s guide, she didn’t want to leave the mansion’s general area on his first day. Regardless of his first impression, she was willing to believe that he was a little cranky after travelling for so long, and it can’t be easy to be in a new place where he didn’t know anyone and had an obvious language barrier. Determination restored, Jean promised herself that if he came to her, she’d do whatever she could to help him acclimate.

However, after several hours of meandering the gardens and reading in the common area so that she’d be easy to find if needed, it wasn’t until dinner that she saw the Japanese boy again. The others were already seated at the table before the new student lumbered in. He looked even more disheveled than before, as if he’d just woken up. When his jaws parted in a wide yawn, Jean realized the exchange student had wasted his first day sleeping and frowned.

\--

By the time Bakugo woke up from his nap, he had several texts from Kirishima and a ridiculous voice message from Kaminari which he promptly deleted without listening to, both of which must have been sent in the middle of the night their time. An ache in his stomach reminded him that he hadn’t eaten since breakfast, and that had been airline food which he refused to count as a real meal.

According to his phone, he still had some time before he had agreed to make an appearance in the dining room with Wheels, so he shot a quick text letting Shitty-Hair know he’s awake and then chose to finish unpacking while figuring out the room’s different points of entry and how they could be utilized. The room was far different than his dorm back in Japan. It was large enough that even with the queen sized bed and dressers, he’d have space to do basic exercises without subjecting himself to the annoying side characters living in this mansion they call a school.

That’s actually something that Bakugo felt the need to yell at Yuuei’s rodent principal about. According to Professor Wheels, this place would have quirk training, but any traditional education would take place in some random public school in town.

With his clothes put away and the confidence that the bedroom door and the balcony doors were the only ways in and out, Bakugo checked his phone and frowned since Kirishima hadn’t responded yet until a mental count of the time difference reminded him that he was probably still asleep.

Now Bakugo had to decide whether to head downstairs early to meet his new classmates or wait around in his room.

Twenty minutes of playing on his phone later, the teen used a little body spray to help cover the overwhelming stench of something burning that naturally clinged to him at the entreatment of Kirishima who finally messaged him back, put on a pair of house slippers since the weird Americans wear shoes inside, and headed down to dinner.

It wasn’t difficult to find the dining room. Once he made it to the main foyer, it was only a matter of following the cacophony of voices. In a way it reminded him of the dorms. Because chores rotated and Sparkplug and Raccoon Eyes were two halves of a whole idiot, they often shared a day to cook, and when time came to eat, Bakugo would hear them crashing around the kitchen long before he ever saw them.

Bakugo snorted and tugged at his shirt. Not that he missed any of those dumb side characters or helping them cook so they didn’t poison the class.

Noise faded into silence when he entered the dining room. He moved to stand by Prof. Wheels at the head of the table and quickly took stock of the people in the room. On his other side stood the only other two teachers, Ororo and Logan. The latter of which he met upon arrival to the manor. The tall red head from earlier was sitting next to some Class Pres-Level prissy looking shit wearing red sunglasses inside.

“Attention, everyone,” Prof. Wheels announced, gaining the eyes of the students, “this is our newest student from Japan. He will be staying with us for the coming semester.” After the Professor’s brief introduction, Bakugo nodded in what could have been a show of politeness if not for his following addition.

“My name is Bakugo. I am here to train. Do not get in my way.” Several students spoke out in complaint of his attitude, which he ignored for a couple reasons while he made his way to the end of the table. The first being that it truly didn’t matter to him what they thought and the second that, with all of them speaking at once, he couldn’t translate fast enough to understand.

He had chosen a seat at the far end of the table, because he’d be able to eat without some extra sitting next to him. A plan that was quickly thwarted when a brunette girl in pink moved directly across from him and an average looking boy claimed the seat to his right.

“That was quite an introduction,” the boy challenged. “Pretty tough talk for a newbie.” Bakugo felt his brow furrow in confusion. From the context, it was obvious that “pretty” was not being using to describe his words as attractive, but he hated that he had to think about it first. He’d make sure to look it up after dinner, just to make sure it wouldn’t catch him off guard again.

It felt as though the boy was waiting on a response that, based on Bakugo’s narrowed eyes and pointed stared at the trays of food covering the table, was not likely to come.

“Like, come on, Bobby. He probably has no idea how rude that was,” the pink-but-not-as-pink-as-Raccoon-Eyes girl loudly said in his place, and she was very wrong. In fact, Bakugo had looked through his dictionary before coming down to make sure he said it perfectly so there would be no misunderstandings. Let it never be said that Bakugo doesn’t come prepared.

Everyone started reaching for food all at once. It was a nice spread of various dishes from his home country, most likely something to appeal to him so he’d feel more comfortable. The very idea made his eyes roll. He wasn’t there to have a good time.

Once he had a plate full of admittedly delicious smelling teriyaki beef and vegetables, Bakugo pressed his palms together and a muttered a brief, “Itadakimasu,” before digging in.

The two Americans were quick to introduce themselves before attempting to engage him in conversation. Normally, Bakugo preferred not to converse during meal times unless forced to by the weirdos that call themselves his friends or if it’s a special occasion, and seeing as this was neither, he had missed their names and gave them noncommittal grunts and narrow-eyed stares in lieu of responses.

His lack of a reaction didn’t seem to give them pause, as they continued to talk at him, making him wonder the purpose of speaking at all. As he ate, he tuned in to their conversation on the off chance they said anything of relative importance, but the moment he heard ‘anime’ he tuned back out. They prattled on until falling silent. It was always a bad sign when Ashido and Kaminari stop talking, so Bakugo swallowed a mouthful of food and graced the two with his attention.

“What?” he growled when they stared blankly at him.

“Were you, like, not paying attention?” the girl - Ponytail? No, he already knew a Ponytail. He’d figure out a name for her later - snapped.

“I got lost in translation,” Bakugo taunted, taking sick pleasure in the angry red rising in her cheeks. By the set of her and the boy’s shoulders, they weren’t going to let him off easily, so he groaned, “Repeat the question.”

“What’s your school in Japan like?”

“We train to be heroes.”

“Is that a real job over there?” the boy laughed, though Bakugo didn’t see what was so funny and cowed him with a steady glare.

“Yes.”

“Are your friends, like, trying to be heroes, too?” Fake-Ponytail cut in, leaning her elbows on the table. Bakugo off-handedly noted her smaller food portion and frowned at the implications - either the training is so easy that it doesn’t require as much energy, she’ll be easy to crush or both - before scoffing at her question. As if he’d associate with anyone who’d do any less than succeed at being a hero.

“Tch. I do not have loser friends.”

“You don’t have any friends?” snickered the other male. It was irritating that he didn’t seem to have any distinguishable features for Bakugo to remember him by, but it was the underlying challenge that made him pop a vein.

The explosive teen slammed a fist down on the table, unintentionally gaining the attention of several others sitting farther away.

“Of course I have friends, you moron! You think I am some friendless loser like you?!” he shouted, baring his teeth in a threatening growl. Lips widening into a cocky grin, Bakugo pulled out his phone and shoved the screen in the other boy’s face with a laugh. It was lit up and buzzing from a new text message.

The fact that Plain Face wouldn’t be able to understand any of the Japanese characters wasn’t important.

When he relaxed back into his seat, Bakugo typed out a reply to Kirishima, who was letting him know that he was awake and about to go on a morning run.

**_[To: Not-That-Shitty Hair]_ ** ****_  
_ **_[From: Me]_ ** **  
** **Thanks for helping me prove a point.**

**_[To: Me]_ ** ****_  
_ **_[From: Not-That-Shitty Hair]_ **   
**(／ロ°)／ *confuuuuuuuseddd***

Despite the massive eyeroll, Bakugo couldn’t help the genuine smile that pulled at the corners of his mouth, but before he could write a reply, his phone buzzed again.

**_[To: Me]_ ** ****_  
_ **_[From: Not-That-Shitty Hair]_ **   
**what did i do?? are you already getting into fights with the other kids???** **(Ｔ▽Ｔ)**

**_[To: Me]_ ** ****_  
_ **_[From: Not-That-Shitty Hair]_ **   
**im gonna tell mom on yooouuuu!!!!!**

**_[To: Not-That-Shitty Hair]_ ** ****_  
_ **_[From: Me]_ **   
**Don’t you fucking dare!! Go run already, Shitty Hair!**

No other replies came after that, so Bakugo figured he had some time before the onslaught from Kirishima’s “mom” started. Slipping his phone back into his pocket, he realized he was being stared at. His content smile quickly fell to a stony grimace.

Fake-Ponytail broke the silence first.

“Was that your girlfriend?” she teased, dragging out the last word and wearing a ridiculously smug grin. He thought that she looked far too interested in something that didn’t concern her, and he noticed a few of the other girls within earshot curiously leaning in to catch his response.

“No,” Bakugo sternly replied, fighting the heat creeping up his neck. Somehow Fake-Ponytail’s grin got even wider.

“Oh, but you’re, like, totally interested.”

“No.” The burning reached his ears, but gods be damned if Bakugo would acknowledge it. She started giggling, and it grated on his eardrums, enough so that his hands started to twitch with the urge to blast her face off.

Instead, Plain Face cut in.

“Forget the dumb relationship interrogation,” he said. “Let’s get to the important stuff. What’s your power?” To demonstrate his own, he made a small ice figurine in the palm of his hand and showed it off. One look at the frozen statue and Bakugo’s entire body stiffened.

“Kuso,  betsu no mono ga arimasu,” the blonde growled, adding in English, “I show you who is best.” Straightening in his chair and wearing a sharp grin, Bakugo raised his palm, but before he could show off his quirk, Logan came up behind their seats and dropped a heavy hand on his shoulder.

“No powers at the table, kid,” he said gruffly, giving a pointed stare at Plain Face who finally has something distinctive to remember him by. “Ain’t that right, Icecube?” Bakugo immediately adopted Logan’s apt moniker for the boy laughing nervously, who quickly dropped the miniature ice statue in his drink and glanced away innocently.

“So then when do we get to see what he’s made of?” the ice maker asked.

“You’ll find out tomorrow during training,” answered Logan. “Be up and ready by six.” Bakugo paused for a moment but nodded once he figured out the gist of what he was being told. Disregarding his prior scolding about quirk use, Logan skewered pieces of takoyaki beef with his claws quirk on his way out of the dining room.

A faint buzzing rescued Bakugo from having to interact more with the Americans. Snatching up his phone, he read the new text and growled.

**_[To: Me]_ ** ****_  
_ **_[From: Pink Queen]_ ** **  
** **Are you already getting into trouble??!**

**_[To: Pink Queen]_ ** ****_  
_ **_[From: Me]_ ** **  
** **Fuck no! Did damn Shitty Hair tell you that?!**

It never took long for Pinky to text back so Bakugo didn’t bother setting his phone back on the table, and he felt an odd sense of smugness when it vibrated almost immediately with a response from her.

**_[To: Me]_ ** ****_  
_ **_[From: Pink Queen]_ **   
**Are you accusing my beloved son of lying?? *gasp***

**_[To: Me]_ ** ****_  
_ **_[From: Pink Queen]_ **   
***img attached***

**_[To: Me]_ ** ****_  
_ **_[From: Pink Queen]_ **   
**Does that studmuffin look like a liar to you?!**

Bakugo felt steam rise from his scalp. Apparently Pinky was hanging around the outdoor track during Kirishima’s morning run and snapped a picture of the redhead in a Crimson Riot tank top, head tilted back to drink from a water bottle. How the fuck did she get the morning sun to halo him like a goddamn angel and make the beads of sweat along his forehead glisten?

**_[To: Pink Queen]_ ** ****_  
_ **_[From: Me]_ ** **  
** **I hate you so much.**

Of all the people that had to figure out his feelings of moderate affection for the spiky haired teen, it had to be the girl who saw fit to tease him about it. He quickly saved the picture, as if it’d disappear if he waited too long and put his phone away.

The sounds of the other people in the dining room slowly grew louder as everyone finishing their meals. Not wanting to get stuck meeting an entire household of new people, Bakugo scarfed down the last few mouthfuls of food.

“Hey, Fake-Ponytail, where is the kitchen?” She glanced over in surprise, but pointed to a nearby door.

“It’s right through the- wait, what did you call me?” Ignoring her disbelieving tone, Bakugo picked up his plates and went to wash his dishes, placing them in a drying rack just like he would back at the dorms.

Cutting around the dining room and all the side characters, he made it back to his room without any hassle. There’d be no avoiding them tomorrow, but for now Bakugo focused on doing a few minor exercises to wear himself out before grabbing a shower in one of the communal bathrooms on his floor.

The sun had barely set by the time he he crawled into bed, but he did have an early wake up call, and he needed to be completely awake in order to show off how much better he was than the losers that go here.

Before sleep could take him, Bakugo took another look at the photo Pinky had sent him earlier. That horrible, amazing bitch. Sundays are when she sleeps in, so she had to have woken up early for the sole purpose of snapshotting Kirishima in his stupid sweaty perfection.

**_[To: Pink Queen]_ ** ****_  
_ **_[From: Me]_ ** **_  
_ ** ****_…….thanks….._

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Kuso, betsu no mono ga arimasu.” = Fuck, there’s another one.
> 
> Sorry, guys. Kurt is going to be a little angsty in this.  
> Also, to clarify, Kurt would have left Bayville Friday afternoon, Bakugo would have left Japan Saturday afternoon, and they both would have arrive on Saturday afternoon. I say again: time zones are a paaaaaaiiiiiiin.


	4. Thinking Before You Speak

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kurt gets kidnapped by the girls, and Bakugo shows off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don’t speak Japanese or German at all, so the translations are done with Google Translate. It’s for story telling, not accuracy, so apologies. I’m still working this out, but right now if it’s one or two words I’ll translate it and italicize it. For a full conversation, for ease of understanding, it’s just italicized but they are speaking Japanese.
> 
> I promise the chapters aren’t always going to be day after day after day, just these first few as Kurt and Bakugo get their bearings.
> 
> Things are slowly starting to heat up!
> 
> Thank you all for your reviews! I love that y'all are enjoying the story!

****Bleary amber eyes fluttered open and pointed blue ears twitched when someone started pounding on his door. Kurt groaned, pulling the comforter over his head to try and block out the jumble of nonsense the person was saying.

When they didn’t let up, Kurt blindly groped around the mattress by his pillow in search of his phone. Through the fog of sleep, he vaguely remembered leaving it on the desk along with the earpiece he needed to understand whoever was currently yelling at him in Japanese. With a heavy groan, he sat and touched his wrist only to feel bare fuzzy skin. Panic flooded and cleared up his head as the knocking resumed.

“ _Ich bin wach. Ich bin wach,_ ” he shouted in a panic. Sheets tangled around him in his haste to get out of bed and sent him tumbling to the floor. He quickly kicked his legs free and scrambled to reach his watch, securing it and activating the hologram.

The tightness in his chest relaxed. After a little fumbling, Kurt got the translator pieces into his ears and tightened the collar so it pressed firmly against his throat. It was a noticeable pressure that would hopefully get easier to ignore. Turning it on, he was assaulted by echoing languages as the robotic voice began translating the Japanese.

“-ry up! What’s taking so long?” It was difficult to recognize a specific voice due to the device, so Kurt had to open the door to see the redhead from yesterday grinning in his doorway.

“Vat is it?” he asked, grateful that the words came out in Japanese no matter if he spoke English or German, the latter of which occasionally happened when he was just waking up. However, Kirishima furrowed his brow.

“Is that English? Sounds weird,” he asked, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly when Kurt snorted a laugh. “It can be a little confusing since we hear you then the speaker, but it’s pretty nifty tech.”

“Ah, no. Zis is German, my native language.” It felt good to speak his own tongue even if they weren’t technically understanding _his_ language.

“Cool, well it’s breakfast time. You in?” Kurt nodded, pressing a hand to his already grumbling stomach, and closed his door to quickly change clothes. Even if the image inducer showed something different, he had no intention of going out in his pajamas.

Wrapping his tail around to loosely spiral down his right leg, Kurt rejoined Kirishima who had patiently waited for him. While they walked, the redhead made sure to point out his own dorm room, which was only two doors down from Kurt’s, and said his door was always open if Kurt needed something.

For a brief moment, Kurt wondered what Kirishima’s mutation was. It didn’t seem likely that it was only his sharp teeth and red eyes, but before he could ask, the teen in question spoke up first.

“So you’re from Germany?”

“Yes. I’ve been at zee Institute for about a year now.”

“That’s cool, but why did they send an exchange student to be an exchange student?” A valid question, and one that had Kurt scratching his head. Obviously, he knew why, but he couldn’t go into explicit details without revealing too much about what he was hiding.

“I suppose zee Professor sought I had zee most to gain by coming here,” he answered with a light shrug. “And I vasn’t really an exchange student. Germany does not have schools for mutants.”

“What, like a school just for mutation quirks? I’ve never heard of anything like that,” admitted Kirishima, glancing at the German student.

“Ah, no, I mean zat, um,” he stammered before finding his words. “Mutants are vat we call people viz quirks back in America.” It would be far simpler if Kurt could make himself remember to use the word quirk instead of mutant. Explaining that they’re the same thing was already getting tedious.

Kirishima just laughed and folded his hands behind his head as they entered the elevator. “That’s weird.”

The ride down was mostly silent, but once the doors opened, Kurt’s companion let out a cheer and took off in the direction of the kitchen where he could already smell something pleasant cooking. He got there in time to see Kirishima and Kaminari shout, “Satou’s making pancakes!” before high-fiving each other.

A few other students filtered in while they waited. The first was a blond boy with a thick tail sweeping up behind him who introduced himself as Ojiro, and with him was a pair of floating clothes called Hagakure. Then Iida from yesterday strode in about the same time that breakfast was proclaimed ready. It became a mad dash to the kitchen that Kurt wisely stood back from.

Once the others piled on to their plates, he moved forward only to get stopped by a bright pink mutant holding two plates of pancakes.

“Don’t expect me to do this every pancake day,” she warned, a mischievous smile softening her words. Laughing bashfully, Kurt accepted the offered plate.

“Guess I’m still getting used to being here,” he reasoned. There was no need for him to go full freak so soon, besides Logan was always getting on to him about using his power during meals. Ashido pulled him from his thoughts by grabbing his arm and dragging him over to the couch, using her hip to slide Kirishima over and make room.

While they ate, other teenagers began to appear, eagerly eating whatever pancakes were left. For the moment, Kurt figured he could introduce himself to them later, though when a tall girl with long black hair walked in, Ashido tossed her plate onto the table and leapt over the back of the couch to talk to her. Kurt got dragged into a conversation with Kirishima and Kaminari about a new game they’ve been playing.

Kurt smiled and nodded, having no idea what they were talking about, but commenting when they said something that reminded him of one of his games. They were getting into a debate about rpg’s vs shooters when hands dropped down on his shoulders.

On one side was Ashido and the other was the invisible girl.

“Hey, guys, we’re stealing Kurt for the day,” informed Ashido.

“Vat?” Kurt questioned, eyes widening as he looked to the other boys for answers.

“We’re having a girls’ day out,” added Hagakure. The perky way she spoke reminded Kurt of Kitty whenever she was about to go shopping, but unfortunately that was the only comfort the comparison provided. Kurt would give his left hand for this impromptu trip to be nothing like a mall crawl with Kitty Pryde.

“But we need a male opinion, plus we want to show him more of the town.” Still surprised enough that he was unable to protest, the girls grabbed his arms and dragged him away.

That’s how Kurt found himself walking down the street with the girls of his new class. Ashido was in front, proudly strolling with the tall girl who he was told to call Yaomomo and Uraraka and Tsuyu from yesterday were talking about what they wanted to shop for with Hagakure. In the middle of the group, Kurt had been approached by a dark haired girl with extended earlobes ending in aux jacks and a punk rock style.

Her name was Jirou, and the first thing he learned about her was her love of music. They got into a discussion about bands, and Kurt was pleasantly surprised by her knowledge of German rock music since she even knew some of his favorite singers. They continued talking until the group arrived at the bustling shopping center.

The moment they stepped inside, Kurt had to stop in order to take it all in. He’d never seen so many different mutations. Some were subtle while others were more ostentatious, and they all wandered about as carefree as the normal people back home. A lot of the shops immediately nearby even sold merchandise made special for specific types of mutations. Of quirks.

“Zis is incredible!” he exclaimed, voice filled with wonderment.

“Yeah, the mall is great,” Ashido laughed. All of the girls had their own things they wanted to buy, so they decided to split up and meet in the food court for lunch. As they all went their own way, Kurt couldn’t help but follow the bright pink girl as she ran off.

As they ran, Kurt was trying to look all around him but found it difficult to do while keeping track of Ashido. When she finally slowed to a stop, she spun around and walked backwards in order to look at Kurt.

“Are you excited?”

“I guess so?” he laughed, grinning when she did the same.

“Come on!” Kurt obediently followed her into a department store. They walked past the shoes, and he occasionally paused to admire the different types, even seeing a few designed for hoofed feet. He wondered if he’d be able to find footwear that would fit his uniquely two-toed feet.

Anything he could imagine, the store had. Shirts for people with wings or multiple arms, pants with built in holes for tails, and even hats for horns. Every new sight stretched Kurt’s grin wider and wider. It was the bags that interested Ashido, and she proceeded to flaunt every purse she liked, and even Kurt could recognize them as the tackiest objects in creation.

If it had animal print or bright colors, then Ashido wanted it, whether it was a clutch, a tote, or shoulder bag. Her favorite was a pink zebra print tote with a fuzzy red ball on the brass zipper tab. It was horrendous, and Kitty would definitely call it an affront to fashion but watching Ashido strike pose after pose with it, he couldn’t help but agree that it was perfect for her.

When they were leaving the store, Kurt couldn’t figure out how he ended up carrying the bag or the seafoam green camouflage crop top she subsequently purchased to match the bag. Based on her purchases, he honestly no longer believed that Ashido wasn’t at least partially colorblind. After putting the plastic bag with the shirt into the tote and pulling that over his shoulder, she said that she needed some horn polish.

Ashido was happy to explain what it was when he asked, surprised as she was that he’d never heard of it. However, while she talked about how important shining and strengthening was for thinner horns like hers, his attention went to the people around them. Specifically to a group of girls walking in their direction.

The way they whispered to each other and pointed in their direction caused Kurt to stiffen. There was a brief moment of panic, and it was only when Ashido looked back at him in confusion that Kurt realized he had grabbed her wrist. Images of the strangers yelling at her, or worse hurting her, flashed in his mind, and his grip reflexively tightened.

“Kurt-san? Is something wrong?” she asked, large black eyes softening in concern.

“Ashido, I think vee need to-”

“Excuse me, but are you Ashido? From the Yuuei Hero course?” It felt as though he’d been doused with cold water. Kurt looked at the new girl who had moved ahead of her group stand with her hands held shyly in front of her.

The pink teen next to him smiled and nodded, completely unfazed by the interruption.

“I knew it! I’ve been such a big fan, ever since the sports festival last year!” The girl held out her palm to show a thin clear liquid coating the skin, which Kurt now noticed had a pale green tinge. “You’re quirk is a lot like mine. I mean,” she blushed, “mine is basically just tree sap, but-”

“That’s really awesome!” interjected Ashido. The two girls immediately jumped into a conversation about secretion quirks which somehow led to skin care. Frankly, he couldn’t follow it, but it did make him think about if he could get something for his fur other than regular shampoo.

The girl’s friends reached them and exchanged pleasantries before pulling her away.

“It was nice meeting you,” Ashido called after them before turning to Kurt. “Ready? I want to check out that lotion she mentioned. She’s right, secreting acid is killer on the pores.” With that comment, she set off, strutting with an extra hop in her step.

Readjusting her purchases on his shoulder, Kurt quickly caught up and walked alongside her. Ashido folded her hands behind her back and looked over at him.

“So what was that earlier? Were you wanting to hold my hand?” she teased, grinning mischievously.

“N-no! It’s just zat I saw zem looking and pointing at you.”

“Yeah, sorry about that. We get recognized every so often after the sports festival and internships last year. You should have seen the way people swarmed Kirishima,” she laughed. “But it’s been awhile.”

Kurt shook his head. Those other teens had done nothing threatening, but there’d been a moment where he’d been truly terrified for her.

“I...I sought zey vere going to hurt you.” The quiet admission pulled Ashido to a stop, and she stared incredulously at his slumped shoulders and downcast expression.

“Hurt me? Why would they do that?”

“Because you’re…” Kurt started picking at his sleeve to avoid her gaze, wishing that he had chosen not to say anything. Ashido had stopped in the middle of a walkway, forcing others to part and bringing more attention to their quiet standoff.

“Because I’m what?”

“Different.”

“We’re all different, Kurt,” she scoffed.

“Yeah, but you look different!”

Ashido was visibly taken aback, mouth dropping open. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she took her purchases from him and secured them over her shoulder.

“I need to go get my horn polish,” she muttered, glancing off to the side to avoid meeting his gaze. “You should go meet the others.” Spinning on her heels, Ashido sped off into the crowd. Kurt reached out and called after her, unsure of what had just happened.

Had he said something wrong? Maybe the device on his neck translated wrong. He didn’t want to leave it like that, since Ashido had looked kind of upset, but maybe it’d be best to give her space and find the others like she said. He’d be able to ask what’s wrong later tonight at the dorms.

It was a bit of a struggle to find his way back to the food court. Standing off to the side, he searched for his new friends and found Yaomomo and Uraraka sitting at one of the tables. He pulled out a chair and joined them, getting smiles once he sat down.

“Hello, Kurt-san. I didn’t expect you to return so soon,” Yaoyorozu commented, looking around to try and find his companion. “Where’s Ashido-san?”

“Yeah, wasn’t she with you?” asked Uraraka, setting down her pizza slice.

“She vas. I’m not sure vere she vent,” he confessed. “I don’t know vat happened, if maybe I said something wrong or…” When he trailed off, the two girls questioned him on what happened when Ashido started acting strangely. He did try to detail what they had done and said starting with the group of teenagers approaching them, since he didn’t know exactly where things had gone wrong. “And zen I said it’s because she looks different, and zat’s ven she got veird.”

Yaoyorozu and Uraraka shared an uncomfortable look and seemed to have a silent conversation before turning back to Kurt.

“It’s not that you did anything wrong,” Uraraka assured him, wringing her hands before nervously giving the reins over to Yaoyorozu.

“There’s sort of an unspoken rule about bringing attention to non-human mutations. It’s more a matter of manners than anything else,” she explained. “Typically people don’t really care, as mutation quirks are perfectly natural, but you referenced her unique appearance as being a reason someone would want to hurt her.”

“I vasn’t trying to say zey should or zat zere vas anything wrong viz how she looks,” Kurt quickly said, “but I know people vith quirks zat vere attacked just for hafing powers, and zose zat don’t look human are treated even vorse.”

“We know you didn’t mean any harm, Kurt-san. Just talk to her tonight. I’m sure she’ll understand.” Uraraka gave him a reassuring smile. “I wish we could offer more help.”

“You’ve helped plenty,” he promised.

Pushing the issue with Ashido to the back of his mind, he asked Uraraka and Yaoyorozu if they bought anything. It turned out that Uraraka doesn’t normally have enough spare cash lying around for frivolous spending and usually attends the mall trips as a way to get out of the dorms, and Yaoyorozu wasn’t in desperate need of anything and chose to keep Uraraka company instead.

Instead of shopping, they had grabbed a table in the food court and people watched. Kurt happily joined in, taking the opportunity to check out the different mutations. Back home, he never got to see any mutations besides the other teens at the Institute and in the Brotherhood.

“Zee professor who picked me up from zee airport said zat you can’t use your quirk in public,” Kurt commented when he saw a little kid stretching a finger a couple feet across a nearby table to poke at his brother. Uraraka and Yaoyorozu turned to look and smiled at the kids playing.

“Legally speaking, he was right, though there are a few exceptions,” the taller girl said.

“Like work permits let people use their quirks to help with their jobs. Growing up I wanted one of those so I could use my Zero Gravity to help with my parents’ construction business.” explained Uraraka. “Even heroes have to have a license.”

“Okay, but what about…?” Kurt gestured to the children.

“Well they can’t put every kid in jail for playing with their quirk,” the pink cheeked girl laughed.

“And it’s unfeasible to parole every person for unauthorized quirk use,” Yaoyorozu added. “As long as you aren’t being excessive or reckless, then you’ll most likely just receive a warning.” Kurt nodded in understanding.

The three of them continued watching the kids play around while they waited for the rest of their group to show up. A pile of floating bags soon walked up with Tsuyu, who only had a single bag with her.

When all the girls, excluding Ashido, had reconvened and indulged in the food court restaurants, they gushed about their purchases, but once they found out Kurt hadn’t bought anything for himself, it was decided they had to find him something to celebrate his first week in Japan.

There wasn’t anything Kurt could think of that he needed at the moment but mentioned to the pushy girls that he wanted to try some Japanese snack food. They stopped by the candy store to stockpile ramune, pocky, koala march, hai chu, and whatever else sounded good to the German mutant.

Everyone was content as they walked toward the front of the mall. Hagakure was texting Ashido to let her know they were meeting up to go back to the dorms, and they waited patiently until her phone dinged with a reply.

“She says to go ahead without her,” the invisible girl reported. Kurt winced, and guilt weighed his shoulders down. Yaoyorozu and Uraraka gave him sympathetic looks, but a dark cloud hovered over his head all the way back to the school grounds.

Shouts could be heard the moment the group entered the dorm building. Several of the boys had hooked up a game system to the tv in the main room and looked to be in the middle of a fighting tournament, and Kurt was hit by the familiarity of his friends back at the Institute doing the same thing.

While the girls went to put their stuff away, Kurt got dragged into the fray. Kaminari handed him one of the controllers and left him to it. He didn’t understand any of the Japanese writing on the screen, but thankfully fighting games are pretty much the same no matter what country they’re from.

Despite the distraction, Kurt’s tail tapped out his agitation against his calf from its wrapped position around his leg, and he had to keep it in mind so that it didn’t accidentally hit Sero. They were in the semi-finals match, Kurt vs. Kaminari, when he heard her offer greetings to everyone.

Hidden pointed ears twitched, and he turned to see Ashido standing there, the new bag they picked out hanging off her shoulder. Without bothering to pause, Kurt grabbed the bag of snacks he got earlier and leapt over the back of the couch earning several groans when Kaminari cheered out with his win. Ignoring them, he quickly caught up to his female classmate.

“Ashido, can vee talk?” When she looked at him, she seemed a little startled by his sudden proclamation but not angry or even sad. She nodded and led him past the kitchen to the empty stairwell. Crossing her arms, Ashido looked at him expectantly. “I’m sorry.”

Her eyes widened slightly. “Kurt-san,” she started.

“For vatever I said, I didn’t mean anythi-”

“Kurt!” He stopped and carefully observed the small smile pulling at her lips. “It’s okay. I know you didn’t mean anything by it. It’s just...I just,” Ashido trailed off and sighed. Rubbing the back of her head, she said, “I don’t really want to talk about it. Can we just move past this?”

It didn’t help him understand exactly what he had done wrong, but if she was willing to forget it and move on, then who was he to say no? Kurt nodded. Ashido, relieved, excused herself, and he chose to teleport up to his room.

Hanging from his doorknob was a plastic bag with a uniform and a note. He pulled out the outfit and laid it out on his bed. This must be what he was supposed to wear to class tomorrow. Thinking the note would have some more information, Kurt groaned when he saw it was unsurprisingly written in Japanese. He tossed it onto the desk and turned off the image inducer.

Profesor Xavier had added a new feature to the device that let him scan clothes for the hologram. It could only save a few at a time and couldn’t be used while the inducer was activated, but it was helpful in giving Kurt more control over his everyday appearance.

He took some time to put together everything he needed for class tomorrow, which ended up only being a notebook and pencil. He hadn’t been given any textbooks and even if he had, he probably wouldn’t have been able to read them anyway. That done, he decided to stave off a little homesickness by going back to rejoin the boys.

* * *

 

Crisp air burned Bakugo’s lungs during his morning run. Feet pounded against the pavement of the unnecessarily long driveway that he’s been tracing back and forth monotonously. With no knowledge of the surrounding area, he had to remain within the manor’s property, and because the sun was only just starting to crest, it would’ve been too risky to run along the soft soil of the yard surrounding the institute.

His feet slowed to a stop as he approached the main doors. Bakugo grabbed the water bottle he’d left on the front steps and downed a few gulps. Though the light jog wasn’t enough to work up a real sweat, he needed to ensure he was plenty hydrated for his first training session with his temporary classmates.

It was about the time that the others would be getting ready, so he went inside and waited as patiently as he ever waited for anything until someone came by to show him the way to the training ground. When he heard someone coming down the steps he turned but frowned when it was the prissy redhead girl dressed in a weird black bodysuit with a green front.

“Good morning, Bakugo,” she greeted, and the explosive hero-in-training took no small amount of pleasure at the tick in her jaw when he only grunted in response. “Why don’t I show you to the training room?”

Reluctantly, Bakugo allowed her to lead him, though he questioned that decision when she walked farther inside the mansion to an elevator. They went deep underground, and Bakugo had to admit that the idea of an underground training facility was pretty cool. He bet Kirishima and the others back home would think so, too.

Although Red was blathering on about the setup, which he knew had to be important, it seemed that Present Mic’s English class didn’t fully prepare him for every possible situation. Only about half of her words made sense, and half of the rest he could figure out by context. Otherwise, Bakugo was at a loss. What he did get was that he’d go inside something called a Danger Room while some of the others watched from above.

The subterranean level had an entirely different feel to it than the manor above. The steel walls and flooring were from right out of a futuristic comic book but there was a sterile atmosphere that rubbed Bakugo the wrong way.

Standing next to a sealed doorway that did its best to merge with the surrounding walls was Logan. He took one look at the blonde teen and said, “You may want more protective gear.” Refusing to glance down at his black sweatpants and tank top, Bakugo derisively snorted and ignored the warning. Attempting air travel with his gear had proven to be difficult due to its threatening appearance and explosive capabilities, and so he had only been able to bring certain parts of his costume, such as the sturdy black boots he was wearing now.

The gruff teacher stared him down, silently determining whether this was an issue worth pursuing. Whatever Logan saw in those unwavering red eyes made him nod in understanding. He pointed his thumb back over his shoulder.

“This is the Danger Room,” he said. “You go in, you’ll get a countdown, and then your objective is to survive until the timer runs out. Got it?” It took a moment before Bakugo nodded, but then the door was opened and the blond stepped inside.

It was a large empty space, rounded walls made of white panels and high above, hanging from the ceiling, was a control center where he could recognize Professor Wheels and a few of the other students observing him.

While he waited for the countdown, Bakugo started to stretch and limber up, making sure to loosen the muscles of his forearms since those tended to tighten up the most with excessive quirk use. He was lightly hopping on the balls of his feet to get the rest of his body heated up when the speaker came on.

“Bakugo,” he heard Wheels say, “this is just an assessment of your abilities. Should you wish to stop at any point, let us know. The goal is to keep fighting until you hear the buzzer. Do you understand?”

The hero-in-training scoffed at the idea of giving up but nodded and fell into a fighting stance.

“Ten. Nine. Eight,” sounded a robotic voice. Bakugo took a deep breath to center himself. “Seven. Six. Five. Four.” His eyes scanned around the room, seeking any hint as to what he was about to face. Ignoring the group of people watching, he focused on the task at hand.

“Three.” Fingers curled and uncurled in anticipation.

“Two.” Sweat gathered in his palms.

“One.” Another deep breath and-

An obnoxiously loud buzzer rang, and Bakugo quickly turned his head, searching for any sign of movement. A metal sphere, hardly bigger than a baseball, shot towards him from behind. A step to the side and a small explosion took care of that. His eyes continued to dart everywhere, looking for movement in the bare room.

After the singed sphere clanged against the wall, panels began to shift to reveal an unnecessarily large ray gun that had Bakugo’s eyes widening. A brief glow was the only warning he had to throw himself to the side before he got shot. Hands slapping against the floor as he ducked into a roll, he jumped back to his feet and saw a black scorch mark where he had previously been standing.

Without preamble, he charged to get in close to the weapon when the hair rose on the nape of his neck. He pivoted on his foot to jump sideways, using his explosions to spin around so he could see what happened while he flew backwards. A second gun had unfolded on the other side of the room, and his honed senses had been the only thing that kept him from getting shot in the back.

A mid-air flip allowed him to land on his feet and immediately keep moving on the ground. Movement in the corner of his eye made him duck, and Bakugo saw the chrome sphere once again flying about.

“ _Kuso!_ ” He leaned back as it swiped for his head again and was kept on the defensive, using mini explosions to aid his dexterity in avoiding the gun blasts. Bakugo gritted his teeth. Each shot pushed him farther away, making it more difficult to destroy the weapons. A sudden hard surface behind him forced out another curse.

There should’ve been another two meters before reaching the wall. Leaping away, he discovered it was a raised partition that allowed him a quick rest when he ducked behind it. Using it as a shield, he pressed up against the end and quickly peered around the edge. Taking note of the guns’ locations, Bakugo took a deep breath and made a circle with his left hand and aligned his other palm with it.

In one swift movement, the hero-in-training left the safety of the partition, aimed, and fired two bursts of his special AP Shot. The resulting explosions sent pieces of shrapnel flying, but none reached where he stood. Bakugo grinned, his blood pumping while hot sweat dripped down his neck, until something crashed into him. The force was enough to knock him off his feet, and Bakugo’s face slammed into the hard floor. A quick feel along his right side confirmed his ribs weren’t injured, but coughs wracked his form before he could breathe comfortably again.

Refusing to waste time, Bakugo leapt to his feet. Several wall partitions were starting to rise and fall at random. In a quick move, he ran at one just as it was starting to lower back into the floor and used it as a springboard to get airborne and grab the agile ball just as it was passing him.

In the split second before he started to fall, his hands grasped the sphere.

“ _Shinu!_ ” he shouted before unleashing a series of blasts, but before he could cause any real damage, something wrapped around his ankle and started pulling him sideways through the air. Blood rushed to his head. With the force it was using to swing him about, there wasn’t much Bakugo could do until it tossed him. Finally, with a metallic snap, it flung him across the room. He flew through the air and, with a few well placed blasts, made it to the floor in one piece.

Panels were shifting all over the room. More ray guns were unfolding, and steel cables curled in anticipation. Never one to play defensive, Bakugo charged. He was dodging ray blasts, leaping over cables, and diving behind partitions when they rose from the floor. The only majorly annoying thing was the steel orb that kept flying around. Throughout it all, he reveled in the feeling of being back in his comfort zone.

He’d just destroyed another gun with an AP Shot when a loud buzzer rang, and all the devices immediately deactivated. Those in decent condition slipped back into the walls and floor while the rest clanged pitifully to the ground with a large crash.

With the assessment complete, Bakugo allowed exhaustion to slump his shoulders and took a moment to steady his breath before leaving the Danger Room. Logan was waiting with his arms crossed just outside the door.

“Not bad, kid,” he said, telling Bakugo to follow him up to the op-center. On the way, the teen stretched his fingers, popping the knuckles in the process, and shook out his hands to work out the stress from using his quirk so often in such a short amount of time without the help of his gauntlets. Sweat still slicked his palms, so he made sure to avoid wiping them on anything until he could go back up to the main building and shower.

The elevator door opened and sitting at the main console was Prof. Wheels and Ororo. Staring at him with expressions ranging from shock to admiration to concern, were the red-headed female version of the Vice-President, the douchebag wearing red tinted sunglasses indoors, Not-Ponytail, Icecube, and the female skunk version of Gothic Big Bird.

“That was an impressive display, young Bakugo,” Prof. Wheels complimented, turning his wheelchair around to face the blond. “How does your mutation work? Do you know?”

Bakugo nodded but had to pause and take his vocabulary into consideration. He honestly wasn’t sure how to explain that his palms secrete nitroglycerin in English, and he didn’t have his dictionary or his phone on him to translate, so he held his hands out to the professor, palms up, and growled, “My sweat goes boom.”

A mixture of shame and fury stained his face red, because he didn’t need the chuckling from Icecube to know that he sounded like an idiot.

“You want a fight?” he snapped at the other boy, sparks popping in his palms as a wordless threat.

“Both of you settle down,” ordered Logan.

“Logan,” Prof. Wheels interjected, “why don’t we discuss Bakugo’s assessment while he and the others go back upstairs?” The group of teenagers jumped at the dismissal and made their way to the elevator.

They had to crowd together to fit, which was unfortunate for Not-Ponytail who ended up being the closest to Bakugo who had pressed himself into the back corner. The girl’s face wrinkled as she breathed in the acrid stench of sweat mixed with explosive fluid.

“Your power is incredible,” Red suddenly said. “You’re very capable with it.” Bakugo rolled his eyes at her brown-nosing but shrugged. Thankfully the elevator was quick to deliver them to the main floor so no one had to suffer the stuffy silence.

Eager to escape their company, Bakugo went straight for the staircase. When Not-Ponytail yelled after him, “You, like, seriously reek. Go take a shower!” he was tempted to ignore her out of spite, but even he could tell that he smelled like burnt wood and chemicals. Regardless, he still derisively snorted and tilted his head in condescension. He was already going to shower, so it wasn’t like he was doing it because she told him to.

First he stopped by his room and checked his phone. Nothing new but an email from his mom demanding an update, as if he’d do anything noteworthy after a single day, and that’s what he replied to the hag before switching over to Snapchat. Personally, he hated the app. What was the point of sending a picture that was going to disappear in a matter of seconds? Seemed pointless, but in the end it didn’t matter. Raccoon Eyes had gotten Sparkplug and Soy Sauce hooked on it which meant Kirishima was fawning over it in no time at all.

Although, it did occasionally have its uses. The selfie he took was angled perfectly from above, and despite the layer of perspiration that clung his tanktop to his body and slicked his hair against his forehead, there was no doubting the victorious gleam of pride in his red eyes. Bakugo tagged it with “ _Just showed these loser’s who’s best”_ before sending it to Kirishima.

When he didn’t get an immediate response, to which Bakugo let out an impatient huff, he gathered up his bathing gear. It was strange going from a public group shower to a single bathroom that was shared with the others. He could only assume that a building this size had more, but he hadn’t found them yet.

He set his things on the counter and pulled his shirt over his head. There was a cloth bag that he loosened the ties of, and inside was a pale sandy colored powder that he dusted onto his hands and coated his neck and torso with. It absorbed any remaining nitroglycerin sweat that might remain on his skin so it wasn’t in danger of igniting, a lesson that only had took one pipe burst as a kid to learn.

Anytime he had a extensive workout, or usually right before showering just in case, Bakugo had to powder himself up. He had to wait a few minutes after doing so to make sure all his sweat’s absorbed before being able to wash it off. When he left the steam filled bathroom after a shower that would’ve burned a normal person pink, the strong scent of lemongrass covered the stench of smoke that normally clung to his skin. His mom refused to live in a home that smelled like two people with explosive quirks lived there.

Pulling on a pair of baggy sweatpants and a black tee with his favorite skull emblem on the front, Bakugo grabbed his phone and felt heat rise in his cheeks. There was a single Snapchat notification lighting up the screen. **_‘Kirishima took a screenshot!’_ ** It was pure luck that he dropped the device on the bed before accidentally destroying it with the sparks lighting up his palm. Suddenly his phone buzzed.

 **_[To: Me]_ ** ****  
_**[From: Pink Queen]** **  
** **What’d you do to Kiri?? I think you killed him!!**_

Refusing to acknowledge that he purposefully sent Kirishima a picture he knew he’d appreciate, Bakugo tried to find another way to answer when another text came through.

 **_[To: Me]_ ** ****_  
_ **_[From: Sparkplug]_ ** **_  
_ ** ****__**ur txting mina and eijibro but not meee :’’’( wheres the luv?**

Well he definitely wasn’t going to respond to that. Instead he shot off a text to someone else.

 **_[To: Soysauce]_ ** ****_  
_ **_[From: Me]_ ** **  
** __**Make sure Shitty Hair doesn’t die. While you’re at it, make sure Dunce does.**

Bakugo shoved his phone in his pocket and left his room. On his way to the kitchen, he could feel the endless vibrating against his thigh and smirked. He’d probably have dozens of whiny messages but imagining Sparkplug’s face made it all worth it.

It was disappointing that he couldn’t find any rice, so Bakugo settled for some toast and eggs with enough hot sauce to make a dragon cry. It was still early, but he had expected to see some of the others. Kirishima had been begging him to socialize, so after scarfing down breakfast, he wandered into the living room instead of secluding himself in his room for a nap.

There was a group of guys piled on the couch, shouting and laughing as they played some shooter video game. He stood by for a moment and watched until one of the boys he hadn’t met yet turned and saw him. The blond with orange bangs pointed a finger close to the person next to him, and Bakugo saw a jolt a electricity arc to his shoulder. Exclaiming in shock, the boy, who he now recognized as the ice user, sent an aggravated look over to his friend before realizing why his attention was grabbed.

Waving him over with a controller, Icecube asked, “Hey, Blasty. You play?”

“Shut up, Icecube,” he barked, angered at the nickname he didn’t think would follow him to another country, but everyone just laughed.

“Looks like we have another Wolverine,” one of them said. Bakugo rolled his eyes but moved closer. The screen was split for both players who seemed to be playing a shooter version of hide and seek. He watched them play for a few rounds until Icecube was handing him a controller.

Bakugo fixed him with a bored stare and got a teasing laugh. “What’s the matter? Don’t they have video games in Japan?”

Hearing the unspoken challenge, the explosive teen snatched the controller and hopped up onto the back of the couch, bending one knee and planting the other foot down on the cushions between Icecube and the guy whose power had looked like static electricity.

“Bring it!” he snarled. When the game first started, Bakugo took a moment to experiment with the controls, but once he figured out what each button did, the round truly started. Not that he’d ever admit it, but Bakugo was having fun. Back home, he’d play with Kirishima a lot but after an incident where he’d gotten a little too excited and blew up one of Sparkplug’s controllers, he’d been temporarily banned from playing.

During the games Bakugo was introduced to the rest of the group. He already knew Icecube and then met Sparky, the southern blond whose jean jacket reminded him way too much of Best Jeanist, and the young kid that seemed to photocopy himself everytime he got tapped. It was odd to see so many people with blond hair, which was less common in Japan, and it was irritating that they all looked so normal which was going to make it more difficult for him to differentiate them.

Jeans and Sparky were facing off when Bakugo’s phone went off. Instead of a text, a picture of a sleeping Kirishima that he’d snapped one evening in the common area showed that he was getting called.

“ _Moshi moshi,_ ” he greeted, making sure his tone sounded appropriately disinterested while getting up and wandering off towards the front atrium of the house.

“ _Bakubro!_ ” Bakugo pulled the phone away from his ear at the excited shout. “ _How’s New York?_ ”

“ _It’s only been a day, Shitty Hair._ ”

“ _So? You haven’t been napping the whole time, have you?_ ” Kirishima questioned.

“ _Of course not!_ ” he snapped, offended even though that’s mostly what he did the day before. “ _I even spoke to some of the losers in this place._ ”

“ _Rude, man._ ” He could hear the laughter in Kirishima’s voice. “ _Are you being nice?_ ”

“ _I’m always nice, dammit!_ ” Kirishima kept laughing but decided not to argue.

“Everything okay?” Only slightly surprised by the voice behind him, Bakugo turned to see Not-Ponytail coming down the steps. Groaning, he tried to ignore her until Kirishima started freaking out.

“ _Is that one of them?! Let me say hi!_ ” Regretting every second, the blond put his friend on speakerphone. “ _Can she hear me? Hi! I’m Kirishima! It’s so great to meet you. I hope Bakugo is being friendly, but he’s all bark and no bite._ ”

“ _Not-Ponytail can’t understand you, dumbass._ ” The girl in question was staring blankly, unsure if she was actually a part of the conversation.

Kirishima fell silent, for long enough that Bakugo had to double check that the call hadn’t dropped.

“Hello,” the red-head tentatively started, speaking slowly since he had to carefully think through what he was saying. His accent was even thicker than Bakugo’s, and his grades in English weren’t nearly as good. “I am Kirishima. Nice to meet you, Notponytail.”

“Um, hey. My name’s Kitty,” she replied, glaring at Bakugo for the nickname. “So is Bakugo, like, always this angry?” It was obvious that Kirishima didn’t understand her, and Bakugo debated before translating.

“He is good, like cute angry dog baby!” The blond sputtered and immediately took Kirishima off speakerphone.

“ _What the fuck, Shitty Hair!_ ” he yelled, abandoning a laughing Not-Ponytail to charge up the stairs towards his room. He wanted to demand an apology but, honestly, he couldn’t be sure that Kirishima even knew what he had said. He was _really_ bad at English.

Bakugo threw himself on top of his bed. They talked about the Danger Room and how he was supposed to go to a school full of quirkless tomorrow. When Bakugo tried to nonchalantly ask how the squad was doing, he could practically feel the light coming off of the beaming smile he could hear in Kirishima’s voice. A lot of them have been trying to get to know the transfer student who had a teleportation quirk.

They talked until Kirishima started to yawn.

“ _G’night, Bakubro. Miss you,_ ” Kirishima mumbled, his speech slurring.

“ _I...miss you, too._ ” Bakugo’s embarrassment caused his head to smoke, but when no acknowledgement came, he looked at the screen confirming the still active call and rolled his eyes, realizing that his best friend had fallen asleep.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Ich bin wach” = I’m awake  
> \--  
> “Kuso” = Fuck  
> “Shinu” = Die  
> “Moshi moshi” = Hello (typically used for phone calls)  
> \--  
> I'm busy this month with cosplay and moving, but I'll try and work on the next chapter when I have time.

**Author's Note:**

> I had to write something for this crossover. Bakugo could learn something about humility by being with the X:Men, who are hated for their powers, something he was always praised for, and Kurt needs some lovin' for his beautiful blue face in a country where quirk differences are celebrated.


End file.
